<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Whispering of a Heart by Starveined</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27416044">The Whispering of a Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starveined/pseuds/Starveined'>Starveined</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Few Sticks and the Reasons Why They're Here [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Body Worship, Brief suicidal thoughts, Charles is Stongk, Cuddling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Henry is Insecure and Scrawny, Henry's Also Nonbinary but It Isn't Mentioned in Text, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Scars, Selectively Mute Henry Stickmin, Special BROvert Ops Ending | SBO (Henry Stickmin), Suggestive Themes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:01:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,670</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27416044</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starveined/pseuds/Starveined</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the process of being reminded of his own weakness for the hundredth time, Henry fully realizes for the first time just how... <i>not-weak</i> Charles is, and doesn't quite know what to do with the information. Of course he loves it, but... it also makes him seem even lesser.</p><p>Luckily, Charles is there to try and convince him otherwise.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Charles Calvin/Henry Stickmin, Stickvin - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Few Sticks and the Reasons Why They're Here [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036230</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>123</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It wasn’t until a few hours after he’d been cared for and brought home that Henry came to a realization. It wasn’t one that surprised him much, but the topic hadn’t been in the forefront of his mind like this before.</p><p> </p><p>It was approaching midnight now, and earlier in the night, he’d had a bit of an incident during a mission. He was plenty used to getting shoved around or nicked; and it’s not like more scars layered atop all he already had would make much of a visual difference at this point. So, this time wasn’t all that more damaging, really, just a bit different. They’d tracked a former Toppat member that was very much still causing harm on their own to an abandoned building, which unfortunately had… very many stairs. Henry’s worst enemy. Though nimble and fast, he was honestly pretty weak and a not-proud owner of ankles practically made from glass.</p><p> </p><p>They’d managed to apprehend the main target of their mission without too much incident, but ended up having to retreat upon being ambushed by the previous clanmember’s hirelings. Following some of the people he worked with in a bit of a mindless panic, one of Henry’s ankles decided to make the absolutely fantastic choice of completely giving out halfway down a flight of stairs. There was a moment of fear, but two arms had caught him and seamlessly lifted him to be comfortably held without a hitch, the person responsible not even having to slow in the process.</p><p> </p><p>At the time, Henry had been too upset over the knowledge that he’d cried out in pain and therefore some of the other servicepeople had heard his voice to focus too much on how his boyfriend was now effortlessly carrying him to safety. By the time he’d been carefully set down into the pilot seat of a familiar flying vehicle, Charles was gripping his face with both hands and gently wiping at the tears slowly dripping down his cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>“Henry, hey, hey, a-are you hurt too badly..?”</p><p> </p><p>He’d weakly shook his head in response; all it felt like was a run-of-the-mill sprained ankle. He rose his hands from being tightly balled up in his lap to explain, but ultimately failed and only managed to sign ‘Voice’, and then after a small sniffle, added on ‘Hear’. Following that, he moved his hand from having been pointed at his ear to wrapping it around Charles’ wrist and hesitantly nuzzling into his palm.</p><p> </p><p>The pilot smiled a bit in response, but had sadness in his eyes. He’d taken his free hand and used it to grip the other one of Henry’s, then murmured a sympathetic apology and suggested that perhaps nobody had paid attention in the chaos of it all. That did help him calm down a bit, enough to release the other and allow him to start patching him up a bit, although only some supporting bandages and an icepack were needed.</p><p> </p><p>The flight back to base was mostly without conversation, but neither of them really minded. Henry stayed in the helicopter while Charles went to report to the General, and afterwards had gotten carried again all the way to their on-base apartment.</p><p> </p><p>And now here he was, a couple hours later, face aflame as his mind had cleared enough from the voice incident to allow for other thoughts. Mainly, that Charles had carried him, for long distances and seemingly with zero difficulty. He wasn’t by any means heavy, but running for a significant time with a person of any size in your arms was an exertion. Charles had lifted him like it was nothing, though, not to mention the impressive catch…</p><p> </p><p>They’d been close for years, but only grew officially romantic a few months ago so no cute ‘carrying your significant other’ situations had arisen before now. He was startled from his stupor by the sound of a glass of water being set down on the side table for him.</p><p> </p><p>“Um, Henry? Do you have a fever now or something?”</p><p> </p><p>He looked up at Charles and shook his head, even though the overwhelming flush in his face probably did look quite suspicious.</p><p> </p><p>“Wellll, can you tell me what it is, then?”</p><p> </p><p>Trying to lie his way out of this one would surely end in catastrophic failure, and besides, there wasn’t really a reason to, was there? Probably not. He hoped.</p><p> </p><p>“Um… sit down?” he murmured in response; which elicited a very happy look from Charles as it had been the first time he’d used his voice since returning home. Said expression was followed by quick cooperation, Charles sitting in the couch’s middle seat and leaning in towards him a bit.</p><p> </p><p>Henry was waiting for a response from him, but got only a kind, expectant blink, so he took a breath. “...You carried me today.”</p><p> </p><p>Charles’ face dawned a lopsided grin. “Yeah! Would’ve enjoyed it too if we weren’t being chased by people with guns and all that.”</p><p> </p><p>Henry managed a weak, flustered laugh. “You’re, um, really strong…”</p><p> </p><p>After not receiving a reply for a moment, he hesitantly turned to look at his companion to find that Charles was blushing now too, though nowhere near as much as he still was.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I mean, I guess I am,” Charles finally responded with a small chuckle, “I don’t think they’d let me keep my job if I wasn’t.”</p><p> </p><p>Henry smiled, and kept looking at his boyfriend. It took all but a short moment to have his eyes wandering a bit, though, down to Charles’ shirt. ...Had his clothes always been this tight? Just when he felt like the heat inside of himself was about to boil over, a hand gently took his and brought him back to reality.</p><p> </p><p>Charles’ face was even warmer, now, but his dark eyes held a mirthful glimmer. “You don’t have to stay so far away.”</p><p> </p><p>So yes, he had most certainly been caught in his extremely obvious staring. Henry gave a small nod and allowed his hand to be pulled closer to Charles’ body, able to feel the warmth coming off of it far before he made contact. He’d always been so cozy. Henry’s palm was pressed to the middle of Charles’ chest, just below his jugular. The pilot scooted closer in response, so their legs were touching, then lowered the hand that had been guiding Henry’s to instead rest atop one of his thighs.</p><p> </p><p>Hesitantly, Henry dragged his hand downwards, fingers feeling every curve of hard muscle and each time Charles shifted against the touch. He looked up, eyes wide and searching for approval, and found it quickly. Charles, while still flustered, was smiling, and didn’t waste time before lifting his free hand to cup the side of Henry’s face, lean in, and press a featherlight kiss to his lips.</p><p> </p><p>Very unsatisfied, Henry pulled the one of his legs not attached to a faulty ankle up so he could rest a knee in Charles’ lap, and leaned into the other. Charles made an attempt to intercept him for another kiss, but Henry dodged and instead nuzzled into his shoulder before starting to move his hand again with a bit more confidence this time. First he reached up and wrapped his hand around Charles’ upper arm, failing to reach all the way around despite the spideriness of his fingers. He shuddered when he felt the movement of Charles’ bicep as the pilot moved his arm to loosely wrap around him. From there Henry moved to press his palm to one of his partner’s pecs, but froze as soon as he’d dragged the hand down just slightly and felt himself graze a nipple through the soft fabric of Charles’ shirt; every shred of blush he’d managed to fight off crashing back at full force.</p><p> </p><p>“I-I’m sor-”</p><p> </p><p>A hand returned to the side of his face before he could stammer out anything further, and guided him right into a much deeper kiss. Charles rested their foreheads together when they broke away for air, and Henry found his eyes being affectionately gazed into when he’d mustered the courage to open them.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay,” Charles murmured to him, subtly tugging to pull him closer.</p><p> </p><p>Henry complied, both of them cautious of his ankle as he was practically carried again, right into Charles’ lap. The pilot kissed him again, softly, then repeated the same gesture on the forehead, nose, and both cheeks. “I’m… glad you like it. You uh, you do, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Henry nodded, shifting so he could rest his head against Charles’ chest and smiling when he felt the other’s chin settle atop his head in response. “Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Would you like me to carry you more, then?” Charles gently inquired. “Like, when it’s just me and you, and you don’t have to be afraid of anyone hearing you if you get startled by something.”</p><p> </p><p>“Or when I just want to talk to you,” Henry added, which earned him a lingering kiss atop the head.</p><p> </p><p>“So is that a yes?”</p><p> </p><p>“It is,” Henry whispered, starting to feel his eyes grow heavy. It had been a very long and taxing day.</p><p> </p><p>“Meaning I could carry you to bed?”</p><p> </p><p>Right. Charles had always been able to tell when he was tired, be it by looking at or hearing him. “You can.”</p><p> </p><p>And so the pilot did just that, but not before lovingly coercing Henry to drink the water he’d brought him before. Legs wrapped around Charles’ waist as he was afterwards carried off as promised, Henry buried his face into the crook of his companion’s neck and gently kissed at the soft skin there, eliciting a light laugh and returned kiss to the temple.</p><p> </p><p>Once sat on the edge of the bed they shared, Henry really didn’t want to get up again, for a multitude of reasons. Patient and understanding, Charles took the time to bring him a toothbrush and a couple of cups so he could brush his teeth without having to move.</p><p> </p><p>Following that, Charles set some pajamas on the bed and left the room so Henry could safely change in solitude. He looked down at himself once he had got his shirt off, frowning at the sight. Deathly thin and pale, and decorated with a multitude of unsightly scars. Especially compared to Charles, he was even less impressive than he usually viewed himself. But… soon, he promised himself, drawing in a deep breath as he pulled the more comfortable pajama shirt over his head and started to work on carefully wrestling with his pants.</p><p> </p><p>Soon he would let Charles see him, and feel him too. Even if his ribs were visible and very much able to be felt, and even if he was cold to the touch, he would allow it. He trusted Charles enough to know that he wouldn’t react adversely. Just… in a few weeks. He needed more time.</p><p> </p><p>“...Ah, hey, are you alright in there?”</p><p> </p><p>Henry looked up, realizing he’d been sitting in thoughtful silence for minutes now even after finishing with his clothes. “Yes, sorry,” he called out softly, just loud enough to be heard through the door. “You can come back in.”</p><p> </p><p>The door was cracked open and Charles slipped silently inside, already changed himself and looking just as tired as Henry must’ve, but above all he seemed happy. He walked to the bed to assist Henry in laying down and getting tucked in, then got under the covers on the other side of the bed.</p><p> </p><p>Not for long, though. Henry soon felt a warm and of course strong presence press up behind him, a hand coming to stroke over his upper arm. A decision was quickly made after that, and Henry carefully turned himself over so he was facing Charles. Despite the darkness of the room, his eyes had adjusted enough to discern the sleepy smile on his boyfriend’s face, and he saw it coming when Charles leaned in to tenderly kiss between his brows. Next an arm wormed under his to embrace him, and Charles spoke again.</p><p> </p><p>“I love you, you know?”</p><p> </p><p>Henry moved himself in, snuggling against the other’s chest and letting out a tiny, contented sigh. “Yeah.” He placed one of his hands on Charles’ side, feeling just how strong he was all over again and this time not feeling panicked over it. “I love you too.”</p><p> </p><p>A hand in his hair, then, gently grabbing a handful and using it to hold him tight. “Then sleep, love.”</p><p> </p><p>Henry’s eyes drifted closed as directed, and he was unapprehended by any intrusive thoughts as he drifted away; only aware of the safe warmth holding him and the steady beating of Charles’ heart.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>In the weeks after his epiphany, Henry had seen Charles shirtless a few times. It’s not like he hadn’t before, but now with everything in a brand new context, the sight effectively brought back his ‘fever’ every time. Charles was always quick to notice and rush over to hug his flusterment away, but it didn’t work that well. Henry wasn’t upset over that fact, really, it’s not like he didn’t… enjoy looking at him. A very comforting detail to focus on was that Charles had scars too; from incidents on past missions, mostly. It was troubling to look at a mark and think back to when it used to be a bleeding bullet wound, but Charles was safe now so it was okay.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Seeing the scars on his companion’s otherwise perfect form - even if the marks were also perfect in his eyes - helped Henry to start feeling a little bit better about his own. There was still quite an issue that set them apart, though; that unlike Charles, he’d acquired very few of them from being a hero. His mostly originated from both being hurt in fights or accidents from when he was younger and doing quite a few not-so-great things in order to survive, and ones he’d given himself in the times he wished he never would’ve been around for said other scars in the first place. He was ‘better’ now, but you couldn’t tell by looking at him, not by a long shot.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But he pushed it to the back of his mind, day after day, because Charles was warm and strong and carrying him all the time now. Picked him up from behind early in the morning when Henry had gotten up to make coffee to smother his insomnia in, always jumped in to help him way up from furniture, and of course carried him to bed practically every night at this point.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Such as now; Henry being held bridal style and dramatically waltzed down the hall by a sweetly snickering Charles. He let out a reserved huff of his own laughter when he was finally laid down upon the bed. Henry’s intent was to proceed to get up and ready himself for sleep, but as he was soon to find out, Charles was not moving out of the way. The pilot was leaned in over him, long lashes and wide brown eyes blinking slowly as they gazed into his. Henry swallowed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it okay if I kiss you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Heat crept into his features yet again, but Henry nodded subtly all the same.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charles slowly leaned down, worming one of his arms under Henry’s upper back to snake it up and cradle the back of his head, then used the other to lace their fingers together. He brought his mouth close enough for their lips to brush, whispered “thank you”, and then closed the small bit of remaining distance between them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If the thoughts weren’t quickly overrun by so many other feelings, Henry would have been very embarrassed at how he immediately arched his back up into Charles and buried his free hand in the other’s soft hair, but thankfully, he was great at getting distracted. Charles was very gentle with him, but the passion came through just fine in spite of that. Enough, clearly, to have Henry’s heart racing and breaths between reduced to shallow little pants. It didn’t take Charles long at all to notice, breaking their kiss, disentangling their hands, and bringing one of his own to Henry’s neck to feel for a pulse as confirmation for his suspicions. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A very easy task. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Henry’s breath hitched violently at the feel of Charles’ hand on his neck, knowing the other could effortlessly close it around him at any moment and make everything go black. But his love wouldn’t do that, even if Henry sometimes had the wish.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you..?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Henry tried to force the glaze from his eyes and lock them with Charles’, but whimpered as soon as he’d succeeded. He nodded in response to the check-in, though, unsteadily bringing both of his hands up to the one on his neck and slowly nudging it downward until its large, warm palm was pressed flat against his chest.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Henry watched as the brightness in his boyfriend’s face rose, wondering what his heart felt like. He thought back to when he had first touched Charles through his shirt like that, feeling whispers of a heartbeat as he tentatively explored the other’s torso. But Henry’s heart was not whispering. It was crying out, pounding against his sternum as if it yearned for escape. Wanted free of the prison that was Henry’s body, so it could climb into Charles’ hands and be kissed to calmness. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was only one realistic way to get anywhere close to that fantasy, and Henry didn’t like it, but at the same time needed it so very dearly. Touch to the skin not of his face or hands was unheard of for him, but the fabric between them now felt like a set of metal bars, locking him inside of himself and out of reach from Charles. No. No, no. They needed to be together, lest Henry lose himself in the cold corridors of his mind. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With another shuddering breath, Henry continued to guide Charles’ hand downwards until it reached the bottom of his shirt, which earned him a flustered and surprised look. “Y-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure,” Henry breathed, “I am sure.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It took him a moment, but Charles was soon enough able to manage a small nod and bring the other of his hands to join the first. Henry took a deep breath, closing his eyes and nodding in turn. He saw only darkness, but the feeling of the protective black fabric of his turtleneck being peeled up and away from his skin was enough to have color blooming in his mind. He lifted his arms over his head to help Charles pull the garment the rest of the way off, riding the vivid wave inside of himself until it had faded to black and he was left with nothing but the cold air nipping at his exposed body. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was frozen, now, afraid, just waiting for something, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> to transpire. But nothing did. Was he going to drown, was he going to die? He’d stopped breathing. And yet, then he heard a breath? A quiet, long exhalation. But his ribcage felt like it was being grasped by iron claws, and his lungs were wailing for movement. So, clearly, this breath had not been his.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Henry cracked one eye open, but it was soon to open fully alongside the other once he’d gotten a glimpse of what was before him. Charles, silent and wide-eyed, sat neatly between his legs as he stared unblinkingly down at his body. The look on his face, Henry knew what it was, even if it seemed unbelievable to him. Awestruck.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The air came rushing out of him, slender form curling upwards slightly and then shuddering as he sucked a breath in, the pain in his chest spiking and then beginning to fade. He opened his eyes again, breaths labored, and Charles’ were right there to meet him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Henry took the risk of looking down. His normally pale skin had a soft pink flush, the scars strikingly bright against it. Twisting, winding, coiling around his body like a net of thorns serving to entrap him in the past. They traveled all the way down, intersecting and seeming to flow like a fossilized river until the view got cut off by the waistband of his pants. He closed his eyes. His heart was still screaming at him, but at least he could breathe okay now. He opened his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“...I know it’s not pretty,” came a hoarse mumble.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charles still had an air of shock about him, but his reply was quick and with conviction. “W… no, it is, Hen. It’s, a-ah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> pretty.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Even though Charles was still so painfully far away from him, Henry felt as the room started to seem far less frigid. “...How?” His voice was weak and choked, hands anxiously kneading at the sheets.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charles slowly lowered a hand, but hesitated and let it hover just over Henry’s chest. A nod was given to the silent question, and the pilot went through with the touch. Henry flinched at it, but not from discomfort, and Charles could tell. He was reeling, certain his heartbeat must have felt thunderous as the warm, strong hand ever so slowly ghosted down his body until it gently gripped the side of his ribcage.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s pretty, because…” Charles spoke in a whisper, and had to take a moment to collect himself before continuing. “Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> pretty, Henry. You’re so beautiful, and handsome, so all of this…” Henry felt Charles’ breath against his stomach upon the other looking down at him, “It’s…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He seemed to lose his train of thought, taking a finger from his other hand and lightly tracing one of the bigger scars; starting just under one of Henry’s arms and snaking all the way down to the last of his ribs. Henry shivered, knowing very well that Charles could feel every single one of the bones and, if he wanted, break them with ease. But he didn’t. Instead, Charles leaned down and brought his lips to one of the raised areas of skin suspended over one of the delicate bones, and kissed. With one hand, he held Henry steady, and used the other to further explore the patterns of his scars.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“All of this is pretty, Henry,” Charles finally continued in a whisper once he’d slightly lifted his head, “Because it’s yours.” He looked up at him, eyes wide and glimmering. “All of it belongs to you, like… like records of everything you’ve survived.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Henry whimpered as a different rib was tenderly kissed, entire body aflame. Charles’ hands and mouth were so warm on him, so gentle. And the things he was saying, god, how could he speak words like that and mean them? But he kept kissing, first over all of his ribs and then directly atop some of the scars themselves, and Henry didn’t have the mind to fight against his logic. Some of the kisses lingered longer than others, and when one ended up being just a tad wetter than all of its predecessors, Henry gasped.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charles looked up at him again, face warm as well. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask first if I could kiss, do you want me t-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Henry mewled. Somehow, for reasons he could not comprehend, his heart had started to slow. This was safe. “Please…” He forced the strength upon himself to lift his hands and grip his partner’s face. “Don’t stop.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charles warmed beneath his palms, and mouthed an okay. Next, though, he straightened his posture, causing Henry a great deal of confusion and perhaps even a bit of panic. It was put to rest, though, when he saw what Charles was doing. The pilot pulled his own shirt over his head and tossed it aside, putting them on equal ground. He wasted no time dipping down after that to continue exactly where he left off, so warm and so gentle. Henry buried one of his hands in the soft curls of Charles’ hair, and tucked the other one beneath his own body to keep warm.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He continued to calm as time went on, heart settling more and more with every kiss and touch. Perhaps it was getting what it wanted now, and no longer felt the need to cry for it. He shuddered when one of Charles’ fingertips stopped in its tracks on a deeper scar when it reached an intersection and changed its course to run the length of the far fainter one. The pilot kept creeping lower and lower, kissing and tracing each new scar that he found.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When he’d reached the middle of his abdomen, he stopped, and looked up. Henry knew, that for any kind of ‘normal’ couple, this would lead to sex. But Henry was not normal. He very much still needed time, and Charles knew that. He knew that, and was unbothered by it. Henry was sure of that much. So, instead of continuing down past his navel, Charles brought himself the entire way back up until they were face to face and kissed him there instead.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was unendingly gentle, but Henry’s heart had a bit to say about that. Freeing his second hand from beneath himself, he lifted both of them to grip and press against the back of Charles’ head. His message was understood, and his needs soon met. It seemed forever until they separated for air, but Henry didn’t feel like he needed it anymore. Charles was more than enough to keep him alive.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His boyfriend looked down at him, breaths slow and face soft with love. Henry felt as one of his partner’s hands came to rest against his chest again. “I can barely feel it now,” Charles murmured. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Henry nodded, placing a hand atop the other’s to keep it in place. Next he lifted the other one and pressed it to Charles’ chest in turn, slowly searching until he felt a rhythm at his fingertips. It felt faster than his own, but still relaxed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Charles seemed to bask in the mutual touch for several long moments, but after a while brought their bodies closer. “Could I please turn you over, Hen?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The individual in question nodded, eyes half-lidded. As long as he wouldn’t be left alone, he wanted whatever Charles did. Following the consent, two arms wormed their way under his back and lifted him just slightly, enough to turn him onto his side and for Charles to do the same, pressing as close to him as could be with their legs still intertwined.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Henry let out a breath, taking the convenient opportunity to press a series of light kisses to the warm skin when he found his face buried in Charles’ neck. He heard the chuckle he got as response reverberate through his upper body from his positioning, clinging on even tighter to his companion when a returned kiss was pressed to the top of his head. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fingertips found their way behind him to trace the length of his spine and Henry shuddered, though his calmness was undisturbed. A blanket was pulled over them next, and Charles’ hand returned to his back, although it splayed itself out between his shoulder blades and did not move.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“...I love you, still. Thank you for letting me see you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And touch him. Henry did not feel a rush at the comment; rather a continued sense of serenity that was starting to weigh heavily on him. “I’m glad that you did.” Maybe he wouldn’t feel the need to hide so much anymore. Maybe they could change in the same room now, embrace unclothed beneath a blanket as they were now, or even shower together farther out into the future. “And I love you too.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The words left them both in silence, but not the kind that suffocates or leaves room for your fears to take over. The kind that cradles you, carries you away. And so they lay, chest to chest, two hearts whispering encouragement and love to each other while their owners basked in the tranquility that they had birthed.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well, uh, hi. I'm rather new to the realm of stickfolk but I fell for them hard and fast.</p>
<p>If anyone might have thought 'damn wish that would've went farther', you may be pleased to know that a story of that caliber is next on my list.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>